Page 6 of Three Pucking Ex's Brothers

“I’m not fragile!” I protest, but Pam raises an eyebrow.

“Sweetheart, you’ve spent the last two days staring into the distance like you lost your husband at sea.”

“I mean, to be fair, he’sBrett Sterling,” Krystal says. “He’s like the hottest hockey player on TikTok right now.”

“Not helping, Krys!” Zayne snaps as Abby leans her elbow on my station counter. I sip my vanilla latte, relishing the warmth on my tongue. It doesn’t fix shit, but at least it tastes good.

“As I was saying,” Abby says, “you know what you need is a night out.”

“I can’t go out,” I say. “I have things to do, I?—”

“Watching romantic movies with Pickles and crying into takeout is not a solid plan, sweetheart,” Pam says bluntly.

I’m not about to tell her that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for two days.

The way she knows me is uncanny, though, and I don’t want to admit that. But then again, I’ve known her a long time—all my life, practically—so I suppose she comes by her knowledge honestly.

“Pamcakes is right, Nora. You need to shed that which does not serve you,” Zayne says, and I give him a sad smile.

I spent most of my actual anniversary crying in my brother’s house with a rather scared-looking Pickles, who wouldn’t leave my side. When I stopped crying because I was numb, I called Abby. Though, I didn’t tell her the sordid details. It was bad enough I would remember them; I didn’t need to relive or rehash them to my best friend because I did not need her going off half-cocked to my house—er, Brett’s house—and causing a scene. The last thing I needed was my best friend to get arrested, given the fact that Brett always complained Abby was an “instigator.” Which is why Brett and I rarely went out with my friends, if at all.

And knowing Abby, she would have gone all in on giving Brett an earful regardless.

So all she and everyone else of importance knows is that Brett cheated on me and I came home to find him in bed with another woman. That’s all they need to know, really.

I expected him to at least text or call in the past two days, but instead it’s like…it’s like I don’t even exist, and I’m not sure how to feel about that, given the last year we spent together.

Sure, it wasn’t an easy year, but most of that was because Brett was traveling or doing appearances. When hewashome, we spent as much time as we could with just one another unless he had some sort of family thing we needed to attend.

And those days—and nights—we spent together, kissing, fucking… I didn’t really realize how often we stayed in, and now I wonder about that too.

“Maybe I should call him?—”

“No!” every one of them shouts in unison, and Abby reaches for my phone out of my pocket.

“Hey!”

“No!” she says. “That’s the melancholy talking. Asshole could not be bothered to even fuckingcall youto break up with you to your face like a man! You are not calling or talking to him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

I sigh as Krystal nods while folding one of the towels from her large stack. “Abby is right,” she says.

“I know I’m right,” Abby says proudly.

“I don’t know, Abs.” I run a hand through my hair, my fingers tangling in a knot which I work my way out.

“It’ll be fun, I promise. Just you, me and?—”

“Me, of course,” Zayne says with a grin. Abby sighs. “What? I’m invited, right?”

“Well, now if I tell you no, I look like an asshole,” Abby says, but I can see the smirk on her face, and watching the two of them banter settles my nerves a fraction.

Maybe Abby is right. Maybe thisiswhat I need to get my mind off Brett and that woman and how what felt like the most perfect relationship ever dissolved into thin air, destroyed by sex and a simple text.

A night out with my friends. I haven’t had one of those in a long time…

Not since I moved in with Brett, six months ago.

“You are always an asshole,” Zayne says, sticking his tongue out at Abby.